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nightwingvixen22 · 4 years

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Shaded In Grey

Summary : Jason loves Roy just as much as he loves the bruises that he paints into his skin; but to hell if he’ll ever let him know that and change the interplay of their lusting dance amongst the grey

💘💘💘

Roy speaks in the way that Siren’s sing, flooding venom in to my mouth and watching it drip like a ruptured peach to the sting of front teeth. Ripping such fragile skin into nasty pieces of flesh, letting lay bare the very salacious core hidden in the seam.

His flaming hair has grown out (frequently used to twisting or tying it up into a knot) tonight it remains loose. Untamed. And my fingers play through that somehow flawless shit storm, tangling each lock into madness; they overall might dangle into his glaring eyes but that does nothing to befog the fire smoking from within. He looks wild above me. Never have I asked to be such a blooded piece of meat at the ready to be gutted; staring into the yawning mouth of the lion, of whom, is fucking starved.

Right now, I know that he knows that it’s not his nails nor teeth that I fear will gift me new damage, but his eyes. They inspire, burn, destroy. I’m left suspended in the company of a gore leaking orifice that bellows ‘look at me’ should my mind toe outside the line of our depraved Love Nest; this being no more then the feral charge then skirmish to the floor of a Gotham City safehouse.

We sure are givin’ some poor son of a bitch a show, I think, spotting the newfangled surveillance camera I hadn’t noticed sooner, newly installed high left. My mind darts to Tim making my hands sweat, however, Roy’s fingers bruising my chin pull me back down into the waters of our fucked up little fantasy.

The holsters loyal to each my thighs are disengaged, followed by the faint skidding rattle of two M1911 pistols being launched across a cement floor. This all titters a secret to me that I am now in the hands of no mercy.

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever…doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead.

Our lips meet with vigor. I’ve never known it to be smooth. Never known us to take our time, yanno ? It’s always fierce. Hot. A clash of potent teeth seeking to grip and rip apart tender skin. To taste blood. And what’s a good fuck without the taste of blood ? C’mon. We’re deep. We’re thorough: two adrenaline filled junkies having gotten our first real swallow of the golden necator that has seduced us, dripping from uncut fruit laying bare in our wake while with instructions to never have one bite; we’re obsessed.

The tinkering jangle of an unhooked belt. The lick of Roy’s tongue into my mouth still tasting of shitty liquor from the corner store. A sinners Paradise. I tilt my head back for him and let teeth ascend onto my neck. I’m the lamb, sticking it’s neck out for the butcher. I want this. I want him to brand me intensely then cool it with a kiss because that is something that this world has done too many fucking times to me, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour.

Isn’t there some goddamn way for us to endure this way ? Twined together ? Just like this. Simply him ritualizing my abdomen that rose and fell with shaky gasps, his tongue marveling the carved indent of muscle there, tracing every groove proving personal fortitude. Proving that my ass didn’t get dropped down onto this fuckin waste land of a planet just to roll over like a creature without fight.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

“God. What a million mother fuckers would trade to see the Red Hood in this wrecked state. You wanna beg for me, doll ? That’s right. Beg for me then,” Roy’s voice is an instrument. His words, musical of filth. I’m being serenaded by the devil and it’s mother fuckin’ magical. Even so, I aim to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t gonna do much damage, was just gonna let him know what toes the line, but his hand wraps around my curled wrist and my bicep tenses. I’m straining to reach him. Straining to infect him, however somewhere in the tangle of that violence dance I strained also for his mouth like an addict for a needle. A taboo puppet. A homicidal angel, like he once called me before I spit in his eye earning my face into the wall.

What even are we doing, Roy Harper ? Why do we do this ? And why does it feel so right to scream your name into the hush of a blacked out room while you turn me inside out ? I’d ring God on the manner, but fuck—I just start pissing myself with laughter each time I start.

Gotta love this shade of grey I’ve established my life in the thick of. Grey is the blueprint of a soul caught in limbo. It’s a nice color. The ambiance is sedated, disrupted here and there by the tortured hollar of a condemned conscience—but life ain’t no fucking picnic.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

……

I can feel the frayed corners of ultimate reality beginning to shimmer. Roy watches me rising high even while knowing that soon I’ll crash, we will, together. And it’s so gorgeous for just a second that I could die like this. I know that it gets old hearing others romanticize death, yet I serious in the face of it. Serious and deeply, deeply in enamoured. Swept upon sandy beaches as to evade the lusting leviathan of the sea again and again. But I just wade back into the waters, deluded at times. Something like a drunk falling around town with an empty bottle of gin; everyone stares but no one will give directions to the nearest pub.

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

But I am a beast, aren’t I? And a Beast has always been one to see the Beauty in crude things. There is peace in the bloodstains, there is marvelous enrichment in the grimace of the faces. Cut me deeper Roy, squeeze red from my flesh so to let me continue my artistry. Open up the brushes of my fingers with your fangs and allow this woeful composer to create something for us both to laugh at.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ?

Sensuality is the baddest of bitches with hips that carve into yours tastefully. She’s the perfect fusion of warm and wanton that leaves you so powerfully drugged, that when you turn over to sleep soundly for having seen Nirvana it’s self, she’s able to hijack your shit with ease. Now your ass is left high and dry. But hey, you gotta relish her; notably on the day you find Sensuality knocking at your door again for having conceived with you a child named Regret, something that she drops off for you to raise alone. Now you’re in solitary as Regret clings to you tightly, sucking the life from your chest, but yet, still you nourish it. You love it because shit, it’s half of Sensuality isn’t it ? And had she not once been your reason worth living ?

I twist my fingers around Roy’s cross necklace still finding a way to glint silver in the dark, and pull him down into me with a grunt. For once, it’s his eyes that are glossed with hysterical fever, swimming and asphyxiated by all 7 of the Deadly Sins.

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone;

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

#my fanfiction #jayroy #jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #Based on the song Fifty Shades by Boy Epic

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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The Pursuit

Summary : Jay and Dick stop to catch their breath during patrol

The sirens in the distance are loud as hell, screaming off to the scene of the fire that lay in wake of the three criminals we had apprehended; orange flames that flicker somewhere in the darkness of a dead neighborhood amid Gotham.

Gasping for breath against the summer time air, I look up from where I’m pressed tightly against Jason’s strong chest, standing in this constricting alleyway. His glowing eyes are already on me as he pants just as hard as I do from our frenzied mad dash to refuge and seclusion. The adrenaline is pumping straight into my ears. I suddenly can’t hear a thing but my own blood, pulsating, pounding. Deafening me. Without a second thought I grab the back of Jay’s neck, bringing him down to smash our lips together. Tasting the copper of blood and thick stale nicotine of cigarette smoke. He himself is quick in responding; fingers hot and wanting at the dip in my spine, then gliding up and into my hair as to grip it tight, damp from perspiring with the humidity of a July patrol. Though of course Jason isn’t bothered by this, not that I thought to be either, with the feel of him tracing the droplets of sweat trickling down the planes of my flesh much in the fashion they do his own. Leave it to me to find something altogether sexy about the feral way in which Jason Todd’s own slick skin glides hotly against my own.

I want him. And I want him bad.

#JayDick #The Pursuit #Jason todd #red hood #Dick grayson #nightwing #short story fanfic

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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Well hi, this is my first post... desperate times call for desperate measures. While I’m waiting to gather the funds to get my car repaired I have no choice but to stay with my abusive parents that live 5 minutes from my workplace. I’m in a really bad spot right now and need all the help I can get... please reblog this to spread the word and if you can’t donate no worries. Thank you everyone 💕

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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The Art Of Getting Caught

Summary : Dick and Jason have built a relationship on a rocky foundation of attraction, lust, and a mutual voyeuristic end game

His lips are liquor, and I’m drunk on them. His words are honey, which I gorge on selfishly, swallowing them up with a sweet tooth; like a hummingbird feeding on the nectarous juices of a forbidden flower hidden within Eden’s great Lost garden of Eve.

Ten fingers char bruises into my flesh, except he knows that I can fucking take it; And so makes me fucking take it. Branding me as His with these angelic ribbons of deep purple with hands just as dipped in blood as my very own from things that nobody knows about, That we do not speak of, only together, in hushed tones with heads resting upon a private pillow within a shared bed breathing in the adrenaline of “being caught.” And that’s always seemed to be the damned crux of our screwing around, you know, the deadly fuel of being caught. Of Bruce policing into one of our bedrooms (or whatever room we choose in staining dahlia with our guilty union) only to witness a taboo beyond the waterfront of his judgment. And what would his blue eyes be of ? Scorn ? Disturbance ? That ghostly overcast shade of “You have caused me grave disappointment ” that stands as so domestic to us all ? Nothing in me has decided when it comes to this hypothetical yet very real outcome..

All that’s currently existing to me is a world drowning between bed sheets while held prisoner between two thick thighs stronger then Titanium, and at the feel of those muscles I grip them hard, clear-cut and sexy beneath tan skin decorated in the scarring of his unforgiving past; a silent testimonial to every bastards whom tried to conquer him yet failed. Jason purrs in answer to my handling of him before flipping us over in a fiercely manipulated Judo execution that I remember from training, one that turns me thirsty at the total brazen flaunt of royal strength; knowing that with a simple flexing he could crack my ribs.

My mind reels, I need this. His breath hot and damp against my neck. My body whimpers, I need this. His fingernails scraping against my back in blind rhythm. My sensibility thunders, This is rotten.

“Fuck me,“ but I’m laughing as I say it. deranged. Moonstruck. Insane. High on the narcotic fumes of our twisted appetite for one another. Laughing in such a way in fact that Jason smiles wickedly down at me, licking the blood he had drawn from around his lips. Handsome and wild above me, he’s a windblown god, tossing his black shirt off and into the darkness of my 3 am bedroom. Three fingers in my throat taste of copper and sweat but all I know to do is shamelessly suck on them as if they were made of the finest sugar, his taste flooding my mouth, like teeth biting into cherries that’s juices purely burst upon the tongue coming alive in the senses. I’m lewd and wanting when in the eyes of dangerous desire. However Isn’t it the same for every man and woman ? Or am I just that one fucking bad apple high up in the tree, the one everyone cautioned not to pick, until along came a young man with an empty stomach and nerve well enough to climb…..you know, I do remember hearing once that ‘ What is always out of reach seems to appear the most sweet.’

The persuasive wave of Jason’s hips into mine is soul crushing, but I inhale the water pouring from the great ocean of his every act. I simply let myself plunge deeper because, let’s be honest, I was never really going to ever escape these tides was I ? He directs them with such a power that I can only bask in their melody and let myself fucking drown, and though I should feel the shiver of this great sea, I don’t, by virtue of his Siren’s song being far too beautiful.

In the end, if it is that I’m that aforementioned bad apple, then he’s the Siren that chose to eat me. In other words : We’ve infected each other. And with no intentions to stop. Which is okay with me, seeing as it’s always been the chaos that’s made this so pleasing. This beautiful chaos. Fuck, it’s just all a mess, a big fucking mess, perfectly ruined, splendidly destroyed.

And when all grows eventually quiet. When the bedroom is too sultry to stand, and we still lay with one another for having no stunning disturbance during our coupling, I’ll ask him, “What would you do if Bruce really found us though? Would you lie or some shit ? Throw me under the bus, say it was my fault?”

And Jason would laugh without humor, tug at my hair and make me look at him, “Fuck no. Who the hell do you think I am ? I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, or what he see’s. Let him find out. Let him know. And if he thinks it’s wrong, then fuck it. I would rather be known as an honest sinner then a lying hypocrite.”

He’s my intoxication. My preferred drug. And it’s because of of this (our nightly escapades being built upon the debauched foundation of physical attraction and nothing else) that I know Jason will one day go from being my drug

to the reason that I need them.

#The Art Of Getting Caught #JayDick #short story fanfic #Jason Todd #red hood #Dick Grayson #nightwing #Bruce Wayne #batman

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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Date Night

Summary : Dick calls up Jason in hopes for a date

I hate him. I love him. Damn I hate that I love him; that I need him. I stare up at the ceiling in the darkness of my bedroom while running a hand across my sweaty forehead from my tradition of nightly push–ups. I need a shower. And it’s as I peel my perspiry self away from the coolness of my hardwood floor that my cell phone comes to life on the night stand; that shrill ringing hammering through my skull double time.

Resting the phone between my head and shoulder, I voice out a raspy, “Yeah,” while gracelessly unlacing my mud worn boots. Man, these could use a fuckin’ washing.

“You free tomorrow night?” He doesn’t even need to say who he is, I can hear it clearly in the luscious tune of his voice that is all together him. Like liquefied chocolate and frothy booze….goddamn, I’m drunk off of him; gross.

“Maybe,” I feign like a middle schooler with his first crush

Dick laughs. “C’mon Jay, I’m trying to take you out. The least you can do is tell me what your lineup looks like so I wont be knocking on a deserted apartment door.”

“Awe,” I taunt, “I can see it now, a man in a suit with a hand full of roses, standing in the rain; ass in a sling.”

He laughs again at my cynicism, “There’s no way that I’m wearing a suit, we’ll do something casual. And I don’t think that the forecast predicts rain tomorrow. As for the roses….would you really like some ?”

I scoff. “Fuck no. Bring a six pack and you might get lucky.” The scary part is that I don’t even know if I’m joking or not anymore. Shit, get me hammered and I might even crawl into his lap myself. But I don’t count on getting drunk around him, I will explicitly do things to rue in the morning. ‘A sober Jason is a happy Jason’ I remind myself no matter how untrue that shit might be. But that’s the thing about life. You have to outwit yourself into believing that what you’re doing manifests the right energy, as well as psych yourself into reveling in passing by the red apple instead ofbiting into it.

But I’ll tell ya…Dick is one fuckin’ succulent looking fruit. And me ? I’m famished.

#Date Night #Short Little JayDick Fanfic Scene #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Dick Grayson #Nightwing

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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Penalty Of A Lost God

Summary : Short story JayDick fanfic in Jason’s Point of view during an intimate moment with Dick

I was made into a weapon and told to find peace. Though, at times I’d say I would rather be ruined a little more than loved however, Dickie would assuredly disagree.

“You’re a tornado,” he calls me, brilliant blue eyes akin to glowing gems underneath mountains of rubble, ones that I’d somehow found strength in capturing between my rough palms; these idolized sapphires. “You’re a tornado with resplendent windows to your soul and an immaculate heartbeat.” Fuck, if those words weren’t as lousy as they were pretty. All to hell, I just wanted for him to bite my neck and call me an angel, fuck me stupid until the room was laced with our names. Avid prayers thickened, interlacing mid the catastrophic ‘utopia’ of Gotham running red, drowning in it’s own blood and taking us along with it. Unseen crimson rising to meet our lips, however we’ve gotten so used to licking our own wounds, that we’ve adapted to the taste of that salted caramel pouring thick down our throats that will one day stifle us for good.

There’s no need to fuck up the present moment with these thoughts now though, this afterglow leaving us in the hazy wake of desire. Dick’s tongue hot across my chest, long fingers a tangle of perpetual comfort through the sweat soaked mess of my hair. I grip the bronzed muscle of his back, needing the canopy of his body like dopamine. High off his moaning laugh, thirsting for his taste… Kissing him is like fuckin’ drowning, resurfacing, and drowing again. He pushes me under only to resuscitate me, nothin’ more euphoric then being resurrected by the hands of your lover upon wilting by his very kiss.

I press my hips against his, gaining a breathy gasp that cools my overheated face and submerges us in a cloud of passion that could almost take us away from this very room if it wanted. God, I’m in love with this fool and his dumbass grin, his stupid ass humor, his alluring face…he see’s past the armor that the world has fastened me with. To him I’m not violent, I’m not lethal, I’m a Result. He understands that the lambs have to become the lions once having dodged the butchers knife. My liberator (haloed above me by the shitty fluorescent lamp flickering low in this safehouse) knows that every monster had a soul that was soft and light as silk until it was then abducted, and that when in seeing a monster there isn’t shit to fear about them.

Because the fear should lie in what created it

#Penalty of a lost god #JayDick #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #short story fanfic

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nightwingvixen22 · 5 years

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The Taste of Heaven (while standing in Hell)

Summary : A random ass JayDick short story FanFic I wrote a while back ago in Dick’s point of view

Jason’s hands on my thighs, so demanding; made me want to sin. The salted taste of our lifeblood merging in droplets, united throughout the nectarous kisses intervolved at our locked lips, leaking from that of a tongue split from too sharp of a bite…that flavor began to taste like religion; like the way he would look at me as if I were the last vessel in the world to the roving soul of a hollowed spirit in pursual simply of a home in which to find peace. And if it is that I am the solace to his wild heart, then I gladly open my flesh night hereafter night because he warms me like a shot of liquor while I hold him like the arms of a tranquil slumber he might never claim.

Damn. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life.

His arms lift me with the brazen strength of iron, wrapping my legs around his waist so that I’m locked to him in a harmonious way that should be all together worthy in this world falling to ruin. He bites bruises at my neck, making me moan out gratefully. God, I need him. Need him in my veins. In my body. In my mind, my heart, my fucking soul. If he could possess me until the great beyond; I would willfully fall excommunicated to faith in his name.

“Fuck, Jay, “ I whimper, watching the tearing apart of my own T shirt once I’m thrown onto my bed in the fashion of a doll. And as he towers over me, angelic and gorgeous in the rich afternoon sunlight spilling through half open curtains, I can not fathom nor believe just how far our hands have explored one another here today; it were as if one moment we were in the lounge room bonding over shared talk while everyone else was tending to their own duties outside of Wayne manor, then, the next thing I know…Jason’s pushed up against me. His tongue in my mouth, my words stifled and my mind reverting back to nothing more then that of some teenage boy with his first crush.

Something swims within my stomach telling me to defy the way in which Jay lowers my jeans, yet another part screams at that part to go to hell. I am numb to all but the bliss, the lust. Numb to all but the black hair between my fingers, the too handsome face pressed to my own and the deep voice whispering into my ear of just how long he has wanted me. All of this stirs the heat within. It mixes this concoction of sin and paradise all the hotter. While tantalizing it beckons, this curled finger of aphrodisia, crooning to me that I take all of Jason and leave nothing in my wake…because he and I were made to wrap around one another. To be interlaced to immaculate perfection. Two vines twining up a trellis, blooming roses of unspoiled marvel always open to be sheared by the envious onlooker. However, we have never been without the thorns in which capable of bloodshed.

It is 6 p.m. The sun hangs low in the sky. Jason’s sweat glistening skin is akin to that of spun gold, his eyes are like jewels. His voice is like a drug, and his fingers in my mouth remind me just what Heaven tastes like

#The Taste of Heaven while standing in Hell #taken from my First blog #short story Fanfic #JayDick #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #Nightwing

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